


A Morning at the Chantry

by Wei (wei_jiangling)



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Community: help_haiti, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wei_jiangling/pseuds/Wei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Leliana's life at the Chantry on a not-so-unusual morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Morning at the Chantry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherith/gifts).



> A/N: Written for a request in the first lightning round for anything having to do with Leliana, in return for a $5 donation. It's been up in my fic journal on IJ for a while, but I thought I'd post it up now that I have an account here.

_"My, you're a pretty one." A wide-eyed stare, and a giggle in response. "Does the comment surprise you? I merely speak the truth."_

It was early, still a while yet before morning prayers, and Leliana had just awoken. As she blinked into consciousness, she rested a hand against her forehead, and breathed a heavy breath. It always took her a moment to remind herself that dreams were simply dreams, and nothing more.

_"That is one of my favorite stories. It's wonderful, don't you think?" A nod, and a question. "Oh! No, no. Normally I might ask for some kind of payment, but for you... How about this? You seem interesting. Why don't you tell me your story in return?"_

She rolled out of bed, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. If only she would not dream... But that was a silly thought, wasn't it? Everyone dreamt. And besides, her memories would remain, whether she dreamt of them or not.

_"Oh, that is exciting! Tell me more."_

Under her bed, she kept a small package of the things she'd brought with her. She hadn't had much, and she had given up much of even that, but there were a few things her and there that she had kept. She pulled it out and unwrapped the scarf holding it together, ignoring a few knick-knacks to find what she was looking for.

_"Look at how late it's gotten! It seems in the presence of such lovely company, I've lost track of the time. I should go." A frown, and in reply, a coy smile. "But it would be a waste to part from such a lovely evening without a goodnight kiss, wouldn't it?"_

A pair of shoes, exquisitely decorated, with floral patterns embroidered on the toes. She hadn't worn them since she arrived here. By rights, she shouldn't even have them; a woman of the Chantry shouldn't be concerned with such material things. Still, she kept them, and most days she thought about wearing them, even though she should not. Today was no exception, and she gave them a brief, doleful look, before setting them aside.

_"I see that idea pleases you. Come closer, darling." An embrace, a touch of lips. A flash of metal, a spray of blood. "I am sorry, pretty one."_

Next, she picked up a dagger--one that had been given to her by Marjolaine--and removed it from its sheath. After everything that had happened, that simple fact made it a wonder the she had kept it. But it was a good blade, and it had served her well. This, she did not set aside. She slipped it back into its holder and wrapped the belt around her waist, where it would sit under her clothes. She shouldn't have need of it, not here, but she would never be sure.

_Silence, save for the soft creak of a door. "I'm back, Marjolaine. The job is done, and I think you'll be pleased to hear everything I learned."_

As she slipped on her robes, she was idly grateful for the fact that there was no blood on them. There never had been. These clothes were pure; they had only to do with this life she now led in the Chantry, and nothing to do with the one she left behind. It would be wrong to say that she had hated that life, but for now, she longed for neither the excitement nor the threat of death around every corner. Her dreams would never cease to haunt her with her past, but in this place it would no longer find its way into her reality.

Here, she was simply another initiate, free from the life she led in the past. Here, she was able to forget. Here, there was quiet.

And as she left her room to begin the day, there was nothing in her heart but peace.


End file.
